Chapter 2

Once the cash transaction was complete, I escorted June to my car. She smirked a little bit while climbing into it -- I'd had friends tell me it was like riding a skateboard, but it was the closest thing to a sports car within my budget limitations until the three years of alimony payments I had to put out to wifey number two elapsed. Fortunately, that wouldn't be much longer -- I kept telling myself that. As I pulled up to the lot entrance, I said, "Where to?"

"Turn left," she directed, and I did so, after waiting for the usual idiots to roll by. "Is this satisfactory?" she added, when we were settled in the lane.

I spared her a glance. "I said I was sorry. It was... rude."

She shrugged. "I asked you. Actually, it goes a long way toward proving the truth of your other assertions."

I chuckled. "I talk a lot, don't I? I can be a real soapbox-climber when I get in the mood."

"I was amazed -- it was enlightening."

"Well, everything is very clearly 'in my humble opinion, ' despite the fact that the evidence tends to bear me out."

"I found it to be thought-provoking," she insisted.

I snorted. "Frank didn't."

"No, but you went to a lot of effort to make me comfortable -- AND to cover his butt," she replied.

"Well, I didn't feel a lot of gratitude," I chuckled.

"Frank can get... focused on something, and forget about handling the details," June said, an odd expression on her face. I didn't need a map -- Frank was a selfish sonofabitch. It was as plain as the nose on your face. What brought them together was anyone's guess -- and I was in no position to get too nosy.

"I'm still amazed at the things you say about these places," she murmured, changing the subject. "Did that incident really happen?"

I nodded. "That one among others. You have to understand the environment. It comes from that difference in sexual behavior among males and females I spoke about. A woman wants sex to have added dimensions, usually -- love, commitment, that kind of thing. Sex isn't just sex. Sometimes, they take it too far and prostitute themselves for a protector or provider -- and even that is a reflection of instinctive drives, I think. Men on the other hand..."

I stopped because she put her hand on my arm. "Turn right." I did so. "Go on," she added, "I'm not offended."

"Well, I'm guessing about that end, I admit," I resumed, apologetically. "I'm trying to fit behavior to the facts. Men, on the other hand, I can discuss with some authority. And with men, love and romance and commitment are nice -- but they tend to come after relief! And we'll take just sex if we need relief. Some guy, Maslov or something, came up with a pyramid for basic needs -- things you have to have to exist, to get by, to do okay, to be in good shape, and finally to have it all, more or less. Women need support, but men need relief from sexual tension at level one. I think sex is level two or three for women -- but I'm just guessing."

"Aren't you saying that every woman is a gold digger?" June asked.

"Well, it's where the behavior comes from," I replied, "but it's an extreme. Being cherished and protected is probably the less loaded version. But that's just theory, as I said."

"Okay, back to the environment," June prompted. "Turn left two blocks up."

"Okay. As I said, relief is a basic for males. It drives a couple of other things, like the male drive to play around with different women, too -- that and an imperative to throw kids on everything in sight. Here?"

"Yes, here." June's face wasn't happy. "There doesn't seem to be any related drive to be responsible for the results of all that fertilization," she said, a little heat leaking through.

"In general, aside from African-American males, the female tends to handle this fairly well, I think," I replied mildly. "I'm afraid that I side- tracked us." I didn't want to get into the thing about the female using sex as a tool, especially since I'd gotten laid more than once by females using that bait for their trap, and I expected to again. Besides, I could end up talking my way OUT of THIS pussy, if I wasn't careful... "Anyway, what I was going to say was that since males can separate sex out from just about everything else, and because they're chronically needy, they can -- under certain circumstances -- negotiate no-strings sex -- with each other, if necessary."

June frowned. "That isn't the same as being gay, is it?"

"No, it isn't," I agreed. "It's desperation. Basically, it's not simple, and it's limited to a very few locations -- like peep booths and adult theaters and bath houses."

"Go up on the access road," June interrupted, and I took a right. "Don't get on the freeway." When we were settled on the road, she said, "Go on."

"Well, like I said, it's a negotiation. You saw part of it when we were in the booths."

"You mean that silly thing you two were doing, ducking and trying not to get caught looking at one another?" June laughed.

"Yeah, that was it," I agreed. "After a fashion, the basics are taken care of by you just being there -- but with males, there is always a pecking order. Out in public, nobody -- even gays -- can really afford to bend the knee -- there's too much homophobia. But in a peep booth or in an adult theater, well, you've admitted that you're there for sex, one way or another, just by being there. The next thing on the agenda is who is in charge. That can be a delicate negotiation, because a lot of us aren't really gay and don't want to be on the giving side any more than we have to."

"I see." I could tell she was amused.

"Yeah, I know, boys will be boys -- but it is a fixture of male behavior that someone gets to be the alpha male -- and you don't get there sucking dicks!" I protested somewhat vehemently. "What you saw us doing was us calling it a draw; normally, the guy who bends down enough to lock eyes with the other guy has handed off his right to control things. In this case, however, Frank loses nothing because I'm the visitor, and more or less committed to do whatever is necessary to get what I want."

June refused to be sidetracked. "Okay, so this negotiation goes on..."

"Right," I replied. "Depending upon the environment, it can take several forms and it can fly or it can fail -- but there is no name-calling. As I said, males in these environments are searching for relief. And when a male is aroused enough, he'll do whatever it takes. The videos on the screen provide that level of arousal and the barriers go down. What a guy wants and what he gets are gonna be two different things, but jerking off to the video is the minimum, and everyone recognizes that. Somebody else's hand jerking you off is better than your hand, and somebody sucking you off is better than that. And while you negotiate roles between you right up to the point that someone cums, neither of you are branded as gay or treated that way -- because, you see, the rules don't apply -- your basic sexual situation is desperate. If a guy sucks my cock in a booth, I don't think of him as being queer -- with the exception of those who surrender immediately, and basically tell me they are looking for that kind of treatment anyway -- he could be married, with three kids and a wife who's on vacation, sexually. This could be his first blowjob. A guy who would otherwise treat you like shit and humiliate you and call you names will keep his mouth shut and his thoughts pure, because you are generously agreeing to take care of his action." I was thinking 'like Frank, ' but I didn't say it -- God knew what he was going to come out with, now that we were away from the peeps...

"Okay, you were going somewhere with this..." June prompted.

"I was," I agreed. "The deal is this -- in that environment, a woman is trump. When a woman shows up, the place polarizes -- the real gays and the ones who just can't stand the humiliation of being seen there go one way, and everyone else tries to get as close to the action as they possibly can, because just being in the presence of a woman who can openly admit to being interested in raw sex is better that getting head from a guy -- and it doesn't matter what she looks like!"

"Come on!" June chided, "I don't believe that!"

I raised a hand to swear. "I have seen it. I have participated in it. It's true. The extreme case is the woman who enters an adult theater. She will be surrounded by men at all points of the compass, as quickly as fear of her date allows. Homosexual activity stops -- or moves to the far end of the theater, preferably out of her sight -- unless she indicates that she WANTS to watch, of course." I glanced over to see her incredulous face. "If it isn't made clear in some manner that she's receptive, eventually some brave soul will attempt to break the ice -- usually by touching her on the leg in a manner that can be construed as innocent. If the lady freaks -- and that happens; you'd be surprised how many idiots don't understand that if you take your woman somewhere public where sexual activity is going on, someone is going to ask her if she's game -- then everyone drops back ten and punts. But if she doesn't, they'll start exploring to find her limits."

"Sounds dangerous," June murmured -- but her imagination had her going, I could tell.

"It isn't," I argued, "for two reasons. First and foremost, there are a ton of other guys present who want the lady to view them with favor. They're not going to stand for her being ignored when she says no -- which leads to the second reason -- NOBODY wants her to get upset and leave! They might only get to watch her and her boyfriend suck face -- but it's better than what's on the screen because it's a real, live, hot-blooded woman!"

"This sounds 'way too civilized," June objected.

"Apparently, I'm explaining it wrong, then," I replied, "because it isn't civilization -- it's total self-interest. I'm gonna be a good boy and hope I get to see a tit or whiff a little pussy juice -- even if I don't touch this woman -- because if I'm good, someday she might come back and I'll get another shot. That's what is going through every male head in the place." I was deliberately graphic -- and one reason was the fact that I could see the effects of imagining herself in that situation in her face and in the tents in her peasant blouse.

"My God!" she husked. "Really? Even though..."

"I have sat in the back row of a theater on the right side of an unfortunate girl with a glandular problem that gave her oily acne and a weight of probably four hundred pounds, and diddled her soaking pussy while another guy leaned over the seat in front of her to maul her titties and the guy on her left got a blowjob," I related. "When it was over, all I had to show for it was a smelly hand and the guy leaning over the seats had about the same, because when she finished sucking the guy -- who looked old enough to be her father -- she said 'Thank you, we're leaving now.' And I was happy for what I got and envied by a couple of other guys."

"Omigod!" June gasped.

I chuckled. "If the less fortunate among the female gender knew this information, there would be an adult theater or at least a peep show in every town. It's open season, and there are no hunters to be had... Instead, we all suffer, because ignorance is rampant and politicians and religious demagogues make their fortunes telling us about sin and depravity while fostering those very conditions."

June chuckled back. "Watch it -- you're climbing that soapbox again..."

"You've been hard to convince," I retorted. "I had to resort to rhetoric!"

"Well, it's a lot to swallow," she mused.

"Oh, I dunno, a couple of teaspoons, maybe," I slipped in, grinning.

That got a blush and a full belly-laugh -- but she sobered quickly. "We're coming up on it -- that complex on the right." I nodded and pulled in and she led me to a parking space. The complex was a bunch of four-plexes; we went inside the nearest and up the stairs. June knocked, and in a moment, Frank answered the door.

A quick look around told me why June hadn't used a key -- this was Frank's place, not one they shared. Looking around, I wondered if I shouldn't have let them come to my place. Frank was obviously into sports; there was memorabilia all over the place, some of it concerning what must have been his own high school -- and maybe college -- football career. I decided NOT to comment -- it would undoubtedly get him going about the good old days. "I see you found the place," Frank commented, getting in his dig.

"We had quite a conversation on the way over," June deflected things.

Frank rolled his eyes. "I hope you got THAT out of your system!" Turning to me, he asked, "Wanna beer?"

"No, I'm good," I replied. I noticed that he didn't ask June. Every time I thought I understood where they were as a couple, something happened to make me change my estimate -- downward. Obviously, they weren't married. I began to wonder if they were even a committed couple.

"Let's see if we can finally get this show on the road, then," Frank grunted, and led the way to a bedroom that he'd obviously taken a quick run at -- meaning the bed was made and looked fresh, and the closet doors were closed. -- not that I could afford to be critical. Once we were all there, he grunted, "So, now what?"

'Now what?' indeed. "It's you guys' show," I insisted. "I'm just here to fit in wherever there is a spot."

"I guess we ought to see where the spots are, then," Frank grunted. "Let's get undressed." He started hauling at his shirt. I glanced at June, half-expecting her to head for the bathroom, but she didn't. Poker-faced, she pulled her blouse over her head. When her head popped through, she glanced around to see if I was looking -- and appeared gratified that I was examining her grapefruits with some interest, despite her blush. I mapped them in 3-D with my eyeballs, making sure she noticed; she seemed to need the endorsement. When she went to work on her skirt button, I glanced over at Frank, who was down to his skivvies -- and he wasn't looking at June at all. I went back to examining June's breasts while putting my fingers on automatic; she was bent and twisted to one side to work on the skirt closures and they hung enticingly. They were woman-breasts, not girl-breasts; they had that somewhat lumpy, used look. They sagged some and that had that kind of flattened look to them that said that once they'd been rounder -- but that was a real woman thing -- I was too old to seriously consider chasing eighteen-year-olds with bodies in the bloom of youth, anyway. If they'd been mauled before, then I didn't have to worry about mauling them again -- and she'd know all about it, too, and probably welcome it. The skirt dropped into a puddle on the floor while I was getting my shoulders out of my shirt, and she checked to see if I was still looking -- and I didn't disappoint. God knew what I was gonna have to do to make Frank happy, but fucking June was in the cards, and I liked it that way.

Three seconds later, June was buck naked -- and I was behind. I picked up the pace; Frank was grumbling again. I looked over at him, standing there naked, swilling his beer. He would probably go from either a heart attack or liver failure, but until then, he was impervious -- built like a tank. The smallest thing on him was dangling, half-hard, below his beer gut -- but that was the piece we were going to put into action, apparently... "Let's get on the bed," he grunted, putting his can on the nightstand. June and I hurried to comply.

The next few minutes went pretty much as expected. Frank had a need to be in control of everything around him, and I'd challenged that, slowed him down, frustrated him and been generally obstructionist, so...

... You guessed it -- I got to suck his cock. This wasn't the horrible exercise that it could have been, given the size of his prodigious weapon -- I just handled it. Like a lot of guys with cocks in the medium-to- small range, he had a nice big set of fat, heavy balls, which he liked to have fondled and tickled; I think Mother Nature compensates for not giving them a longer delivery system by increasing the capacity.

Frank leaned on the humiliation end, managing to call me a cocksucker a couple of times and a faggot once while he was grunting and groaning out his pleasure. June got to watch, because that would be rougher on me. I hoped that the whole thing wouldn't undercut her interest in me, but there was nothing I could do, really, but go with the flow.

Speaking of flow, Frank's output was prodigious, as expected. I swallowed my pride and his semen while he made little comments designed to make him look good and me look queer, then I waited while he got up and wandered out to the bathroom before snatching his beer can off the end table and upending it into my mouth. June cackled. "So guys don't like the taste, either?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Some do, I guess. And it depends on who you're getting it from; Frank doesn't deserve to see me smacking my lips and talking about taste."

June's eyes went dark. "I thought he wasn't going to treat you like that."

I shrugged. "We're no longer in neutral territory; all bets are off. Besides, I pissed him off a couple of times. That said, I suffered through that so I could have sex with you -- please don't tell me I wasted the effort!"

June smiled. "No, you didn't."

"I didn't disgust you too much?"

"It was kind of exciting, actually."

"You could have jumped in at any time," I pouted.

"No," she frowned. "You're right -- Frank had to have his minute. If I'd distracted him from it, we both would have just had to pay for it later. Shhh!" She waved off my response; Frank was returning from his post-blowjob piss, scratching himself.

Seeing that we hadn't jumped on each other like bunnies, Frank took the cue to provide more direction. "Why don't you show June how good you are at eating pussy?"

"There are worse ideas," I grinned, adding, "Say, what about those videos we rented? Where are they?" In the back of my head, the thought that if Frank was entertained he couldn't get us into much more trouble was percolating. Frank grunted and headed off to get them. I stretched out sideways in the bed and suggested to June, "Why don't you crawl on top? Then, if the video is no good, you might find some other entertainment..."

"I don't know," June replied. "Being all spread out like that, with my ass in the air..."

"You know, if you guys decide you don't like me, we'll never see each other again. It's not like you'll have to live with the embarrassment. Besides, it's what we're here for..." I cajoled.

"Okay." She didn't kid me -- the way she licked her lips when she looked at my cock told me what had convinced her, and it wasn't anything I said. She gingerly settled above me and I felt a hand gently grip my shaft -- but I was primarily focused elsewhere. Her pussy was already pink and puffy and split open at the outer labia like an overripe peach -- and dripping juice like one, too! Given that the nectar collection point was where her clit was peeking out from under its hood, I had an immediate high-priority target. I put my thumbs on the little penny-sized tags of skin that Mother Nature had provided to manipulate her inner lips with and gave her a big swipe upward with the flat of my tongue.

"Ooooohhhh!" Her ass shimmied, and she flinched away -- but then she was right back, closer than before! I lapped her three more times, getting a kick out of the corkscrew wriggle she went into, then poked my stiffened tongue at the open hole the laps had exposed in her pink gash. "UUUuuuugggghhhh!!!" she grunted, and although I couldn't see it, I could tell her head had come up from the way the muscles in her back reset to support the arch. I was a happy man, firm in my belief that she wasn't going to be a dead lay. After that, it was targets of opportunity for the ol' tongue -- June grunted and groaned and gasped and moaned and made other fine noises as often as she could find air.

Sometime in there, I heard the TV start up; after that, it seemed like June was having a contest with someone on TV to see who could make the most impassioned noises. Then Frank piped up with, "Jeezus! Are you gonna blow the poor fucker, or just dry hump his mouth until his tongue falls off?"

Ta da! Suddenly I had a tongue doing butterfly licks all over my hot rod -- and it was nice, mind you, damned nice -- but as I watched June's asshole pop and started sucking juice from her third cum, I knew that there was no way, as intense as her efforts were, that I was gonna get off that way. Instead, all she was probably gonna do was heat me up to the point that when I finally put the meat to her, I'd blow my nut right away when I felt the inside of her snatch...

Frank must have sensed what was going on -- probably from experience -- but you know, he didn't have to be nasty about it... "Jeezus, June," he grunted, "I've told you before that shit don't work except for pussy! Do you eat pussy? You don't suck cock worth a fuck, you know that? Now, Mike, there, he's a fine cocksucker -- did you see HIM licking my dick like a cat cleaning his pecker? Not fucking likely! When you suck cock, you SUCK COCK! You need to watch videos or something. Poor Mike is gonna have to suck his own dick at this rate..."

Well, THAT little monologue told me a couple of things! For one thing, as if I hadn't guessed, there would be no quid pro quo from Frank; for another, June's experience level wasn't that huge -- or she was a slow learner, one of the two. June picked that moment to climb up off me and gasp, "Oh, God! I've NEVER gotten it like that!"

Frank chuckled. "Ol' Mike is sure multi-talented, isn't he? Male or female, he can suck it dry..." I hoped he was having a ball with the little digs. Then he went back after June, "C'mon, Baby, the man just slobbered all over your pussy -- you owe him a nut! Watch the tube and see if you can learn something!" Then he reminded us both what we were dealing with by literally hauling her around a hundred eighty degrees so she was straddling my legs with her head in my lap, then turning her head so she could see the TV, where he had evidently queued up the bisexual video, from the quick glance I took. I figured that because there was a woman present, but one guy was blowing the other... "That's a guy sucking cock, there, but women who know how do it the same way, don't they, Mike?"

I really didn't want to go on record agreeing with Frank about anything at this point, but he WAS right; I grimaced to take the sting out of it, but nodded. June was kind of wide-eyed; I figured that she hadn't been manhandled in quite that manner before, and I wondered where this all was going.

Given that she looked kind of freaked, I asked gently, "Want me to talk you through it?"

"Okay." She wouldn't look in Frank's direction.

"Okay," I began. "First, you have to kind of understand what normally happens. Women get some stimulation from their vagina, but a lot of what they get is from having their clit bashed -- so going after your clit with a tongue works real well. Guys don't have a single point source of stimulation -- well, they, do, but it's their cock -- a large area of it. That's why we get in there and pump away -- we're trying to get as much pussy on the shaft as possible. See what he's doing?" I pointed to the screen, wishing it was a woman giving the demo -- but, now that I thought about it, I'd seen women choke on cock all the time in videos, but guys just sucked it down... "He's using his mouth and lips as a pussy. Now, to do that, you want to tighten up your lips on the cock, and suck -- not like you're trying to pull cum out of it like a soda straw, but enough to bring your cheeks in over your teeth. Don't bite -- pussies don't have teeth; there are advanced things you can do with your teeth once you understand what feels good and what hurts, but beginners shouldn't play that game. Want to try?" June nodded, and tentatively took in my glans and some of the shaft, then, watching the screen, bobbed a little bit. "Okay, good start, but think about what goes on when you're being fucked," I instructed. "The guy goes all the way in and comes almost all the way out." On the fly, I decided to get a dig in, "Now, a cock like mine requires some effort for that, and advanced techniques, so you should concentrate more on getting the head in and out, okay?" I didn't look around to see how Frank took that -- I just kept going while June backed off until she was kissing my glans. "You need to take in everything you can, basically every time, and then back off until your lips are around the head." June took a run at it, and I could see that she went deep enough to be thinking about gagging. "Pop up," I ordered, "and I'll give you the cock orientation." She backed off, and I reached out to caress her cheek, "You're doing fine... Now, you see this raised ring where the head meets the shaft? If I had a foreskin, it would be attached there -- I think it's called a frenum. In any case, right there, at the base of the head, is probably the most sensitive spot on a cock. The rest of the ridge there, is pretty much the number two area. So you want to run your lips over that puppy every time you pull off, okay? And when you're going at it in this position, in particular, you have your tongue in the perfect position to kind of wash the underside, which helps. Got it?"

"Okay." She pursed her lips and pulled me in, going down to where she felt her limit was, and came back up. It was decent.

"Okay, cool," I praised her, "Now, keep it up. Don't feel like you have to go like Hell like the dude on the screen, but keep things moving."

Frank hauled himself up next to me at that point. "Slow learner, ain't she?"

I was bothered by a half a hundred little inconsistencies in things at that moment, but I limited myself to, "Well, sometimes it's the quality of the instruction."

Frank grunted and got up. "Wanna beer?"

I thought about it, eyeing June, who was spinning up to something creditable. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks." Maybe it would build a bridge with the callous bastard. What the fuck was going on here, anyway? A woman shows up at the peeps who can't even give head? Something really weird was going on here... "You're doing good, Honey -- just keep it up. I know there is a temptation to go short with the stroke, but it's the wrong thing to do -- you want to fuck me with your face. If your mouth gets sore, you can relax on the in-stroke -- but you have to tighten up enough to get me to feel it on those sensitive spots on the way out, okay?"

"Mmph hmmph."

I gasped a little. "Okay, that's advanced work -- it's called the hum job. It gets your lips buzzing on the ticklish spots -- kind of the opposite of being diddled with a vibrator." I got this look of incomprehension, which only added to my confusion. "It's a good thing, but you don't have to mess with it unless you have the basics," I explained. "Oh, and something that's real important and is kind of related to some stuff we talked about earlier -- eye contact. You're doing great, but you need to know that it's a tool. A blowjob is an act of submission, and it's a head-trip for your man to look into your big soft eyes while you suck on his nasty old fuck stick because he's the king of the hill and you're his lowly slave. I kind of laid it on thick, there, but it's the basic idea -- understand?"

"Mmph hmmph." Her eyes were merry as she felt me gasp and shudder.

She had me on the run, so I figured I ought to talk about happy endings. "Okay, Honey, you know what to do when I cum, right?"

"Urk?" She stopped, frowning, so I cupped her head to jump-start her.

"That isn't it," I chided. "That will make things last longer, and we don't want your mouth to be too tired to kiss." I cradled her cheek. "You swallow, Hon. That's really important to your man. You can do what I did, after, but to spew his seed all over the place pisses a guy off -- it's impolite. Of course, if you don't like him..." I shrugged.

Frank picked that moment to hand me a beer. "What did you do?"

"I got something to wash it down." I didn't tell him what; my best defense against his outrage when he discovered I'd drunk from his beer can with a mouth full of his semen and the possible cocksucker-by-proxy implications was him remaining ignorant of it. Shifting my attention back to June, I added, "As an alternative, you can have him shoot on your face, but that says you're a slut not worth his seed, you know? It's just best all around if you swallow."

Frank grunted. "He's right." Turning to me he asked, "You close?"

"Well..."

"You gonna make it?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. You know how little changes can fuck things up, but it's going well," I admitted.

"Mind if I fuck her?"

"Hey..." I was going to say, 'She's your wife -- or girlfriend -- or recent catch -- or perfect stranger -- or... ' Well, you see why I shut up at that point. Their relationship was a clear as mud -- for all I knew, they were brother and sister! I ended up shrugging. I don't think June was happy about it, given the way her eyes pled -- and frankly, it wasn't the sentiment I wanted to impart, but Frank was already hauling her ass up. A couple of seconds later, he was in and humping, and that pretty much ended any opportunity to get excited about it.